


Camomile with Honey

by Cyberthecipher



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crying and heavy sobbing, Eating Disorder, Light Angst, M/M, good ending, mentions of Bulima but it’s never stated, mentions of an eating disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 06:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14995043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberthecipher/pseuds/Cyberthecipher
Summary: John noticed.Of course he noticed. It was second nature to take care of his 20 something boyfriend and 2 year old daughter.





	Camomile with Honey

**Author's Note:**

> I was recently diagnosed as “At risk”/“Has” an eating disorder. I wanted to cope so I projected my feelings on to Sherlock because our mannerisms when it comes to food are the same.
> 
> (I also wrote this at 10 at night so forgive any mistake or errors.)

John noticed. 

Of course he noticed, he always notice when Sherlock was slipping. It became second nature to take care of both his 20 something boyfriend and his 2 year old daughter. 

However it was different this time. 

The signs weren’t as clear as they should have been, John was never the sharpest. 

The signs, however, included untouched food on plates for nights on end, the way Sherlock would spend hours in the bathroom sitting in the bath, the fact that he wouldn’t even touch his toast in the morning which John always made sure included his favourite jam down to the correct ratio of jam to toast. 

John would do anything to keep his friend, his boyfriend, from slipping. He knew the stories, he heard them from both sources with Mycroft’s version being a lot more clear and simple. Sherlock was uncomfortable in his skin, itching to be something more than he already was.  
It didn’t matter to Sherlock if he didn’t eat, so long as he was satisfied. 

But keeping Sherlock satisfied was he least of John’s worries, he just wanted to keep him alive. 

It started in the afternoon, around noon. With Rosie off to Mrs. Hudson’s, outside and away from Baker Street. John was going to talk to Sherlock. 

While making the tea John looked over at Sherlock in nothing more than boxers and a bathrobe, sitting on the worn chair with his knees to his chest watching crap Telly. He was only barely nibbling at the toast John had given him,” Sherlock please eat.” John offered, voice weak. 

“ I’m fine John I already ate.” Came the static reply. They’ve had this conversation, Sherlock has had it more times than he could probably count. 

“Bullshit.” John mumbled under his breath. Hen the kettle finally squealed John let out a breathe he had not realized that he was holding in. 

Pouring two mugs and walked over to the living room and handed one to Sherlock. Sitting in his usual chair he leaned over for the TV remote and turned it off.” What the hell was that for! I was just in the middle of being right about how Jason father was David-“ John raised a hand. 

“I’m not as dumb as you think.” John was cold. 

Sherlock’s face fell.” I have no idea what you are talking-“ 

“You know.” 

Sherlock said nothing. He looked uncomfortable, embarrassed. Scared.” The human body can survive with food for up to 6 weeks, you know I’m careful-“ 

“It can survive but can it function?” John question. 

Sherlock states unknowingly at a wall, he was dazed.” That’s exactly what I was testing. See you aren’t dumb John I was just seeing how long I could go without eating-“ 

“Remember what I said? Do you really think I’m THAT stupid.” He punctuated his point with a sip of his tea,” you should drink some, it’s Camomile extra honey.” John knew Sherlock, as well as his weakness for tea. 

“John-“ 

“Sherlock.” They sat in tense silence, with Sherlock staring off into space and John staring at Sherlock. He was trying to escape, John didn’t want him too. 

As John was about to say something, Sherlock snapped his head towards him. Lip quivering.” I don’t know.” 

John understood that. Even Sherlock didn’t know some things, especially when it came to his own health.” I know you don’t-“ Now it was John’s turn to be cut off. 

“I don’t know what to do. I hate myself. And it’s oh so very dangerous but I can’t stop it, it’s the only legal thing I can do without ultimately falling to my death.” Tears started to run down Sherlock cheeks as he shivered and raked his nails down the confines of his sleeves. He pulled the satin up and started scratching himself, shaking and crying even harder. 

John pushed his tea away onto a side table and stood up, kneeling down nexts to Sherlock’s chair and pushing his knees away. He forced Sherlock’s hands from his arms ( which he would patch later as they were starting to bleed) and grasped at them, hard. He looked up at Sherlock’s puffy and red eyes with a silent promise. 

“This isn’t your fault.” Was all he said,” this isn’t your fault and you know it. I know you know it. I can’t blame you for anything that goes on in that head of yours.” John looked down at Sherlock’s hands. They weren’t calloused or cracked, it was a relief to know that bath was the only thing Sherlock was doing in the bathroom. 

However John did see the unsteadiness, the unease. Sherlock was out his element in a panic attack, the usual skillful and dexterous hands didn’t know what to do with themselves in a time of crisis. It was quiet and then the crying started up again. John smiled up a Sherlock.” I’m sorry I can’t stop it.” He half yelled half hiccuped. 

John raised himself up from his kneeling and hoisted Sherlock up from his chair, pulling him into a bear hug.” Never be sorry. It doesn’t suit you to be sorry.” Sherlock rested his head in the crook of John’s neck and sobbed. Painful and raw. They stayed like that for God knows how long. 

John patted and played with Sherlock’s hair the entire time.” I’m going to call Mycroft ok.” John murmured some time later, Sherlock nodded in between hiccups,” and he is going to come here and also comfort you, and then we can get help ok?” Sherlock nodded once more. John pushed him away from his shoulder and cupped his face in his hands. 

“God I love you.” Sherlock savoured the touch and feel into John’s warmth.” You don’t have to say anything, I’ll get you some water and you can lay in bed for a while ok?” 

Sherlock nodded and shakily made it to their shared bedroom with John’s help. Once he was in bed and comfortable, he spoke up.” Hey John. Can I have some toast with that water.” The embarrassment and resentment hiding in that statement pained John, but it was improvement; it was Sherlock’s own way of expressing his gratitude and love without words. 

“Of course.”


End file.
